


Lights Out

by Lennelle



Series: Next of Kin [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drugged Sam, Gen, Mental Institutions, Post-Purgatory Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 07 AU, Sadness, Sam Winchester and Mental Health Issues, everyone is kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 06:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10327481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lennelle/pseuds/Lennelle
Summary: The lights are out and Sam isn't home. Dean tries to deal.





	

"You know, Sammy doesn't like candy and stuff like that," Dean can't help pointing it out. Jody pauses a step out of the front door, a plastic box of sugar cookies under her arm. She raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say _seriously?_

"He hasn't complained about it this past year," she replies, and continues on her way to the car. Dean can't help being a little slow as he follows her, like there a string at his back trying to tug him back into the house. The bruises on his neck have begun to fade, but Dean still dreams of Sam choking the life out of him. He's not scared of Sam, he's scared _for_ him. He's scared he'll never get back the brother he knew.

Baby is still sitting in Jody's garage. She hasn't been on a drive since Sam ended up hospital the first time, which is about a year ago. Baby's wheels must be itching to tear up the highway as much as Dean itches to take her there. He plonks down in the passenger seat of Jody's truck and she drops the box of cookies onto his lap before pulling out of the driveway.

"Really, though. Why the cookies?" he asks.

Jody shrugs. "Sam likes them."

"Seriously?" Dean can't help but be surprised. He remembers fourteen-year-old Sam turning down free pancakes at a diner once in favour of fruit salad. The kid's always been weird about food, to the point he's had Dean worrying about it.

"He has a couple, and we give the rest to everyone else on the ward. I dunno, it just turned into a thing. Once a week I bring him cake or something, and he eats it."

"No offence, Jody, but I never took you for a baker."

Jody's smile is sad. "I used to bake for Owen whenever I had the chance."

And that's where the conversation ends. They drive to the hospital quietly, eventually Jody turns on the radio and Dean continues stewing in his nerves.

* * *

Dean isn't the type of person to get nervous. He's faced down some of the most terrifying creatures imaginable without breaking a sweat. He's been doing it since he was a kid, even. There are times he admits he's been scared; when Sam vanished in a roadside diner, when he died in Dean's arms a couple of days later. Dean still dreams about Hellhounds, he still still feels Alastair's rusted knife brushing against his skin sometimes.

But Dean has never run away, not ever.

And right now, he feels like bolting.

The woman behind the desk plonks a plastic box in front of them and orders them to empty anything potentially dangerous into it. This includes: belts, earrings, necklaces...

"This stays with me," Dean says firmly.

The nurse purses her lips. "Either you put it in the box or you don't go through those doors."

Jody quietly watches as he slowly lifts the string over his head and settles the amulet gently in the box. "Be careful with that," he warns.

"Of course," she replies, closing the lid. She opens the doors for them, swiping her key card. They buzz loudly and take a little muscle to push open. It's been a few days since Dean last saw Sam - since Sam tried to strangle him - and they're warned by someone in a white coat that Sam might not be very responsive today. Sam's violent outburst, and constant readmission to hospital over the past months, mean that he's often changing medication. The person in the white coat says they think they've found the right combination for Sam, Jody looks like she's heard this many times before.

Everything smells clinical, the bleached, shining white floors and the watery grey walls. The soft couches and colourful drawings around the room don't mask the fact that this is a part of a hospital.

There are a good few people dotted around, the divide between patient and visitor is clear. The patients match the rest of the room in their white clothes. In the far corner, facing the window, hunched in a plastic chair, is Sam. Jody grabs an empty seat and drags it over to his side, Dean follows. Right away, Dean can tell that Sam isn't entirely in the room as his cloudy eyes wander aimlessly around the gardens below. A blink is all he can muster to show he realises he's no longer alone.

"Sam, honey," Jody says softly. She places a hand on his knee, and Sam might have flinched if he could, but it's clear to Dean that the kid's too doped up to do anything but drool. Jody is already attending to that, dabbing his chin with a tissue from her pocket. Dean just sits and stares, because his brother - the Sam he remembers - is bright and intelligent. But here is Sam, barely there.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Dean demands. "What did they do?"

Jody sighs. "It's the meds. He just needs to adjust or - or something. I don't know."

Dean presses his lips together. Yeah, at least Sam isn't trying to choke him, but right now Dean thinks he might prefer that. He'd prefer anything to this empty shell of a person. By the look on Jody's face, the way her brows pinch together, the deep sigh she makes, she's as troubled about this as Dean is.

"It's not nice to see, I know that," she says, as much to herself as to Dean. "It's happened before, and he comes back from it. Just - "

"Be patient, I know," Dean finishes.

Immediately, Jody pastes on a smile and perks herself up, picking the plastic box from Dean's hands.

"I did the sugar cookies this time," she says to Sam, whose eyes manage to drift in her direction but fail to focus, lingering on the wall behind her. "You said you liked these the last time, so I did 'em again. Um, a few are a little... crispy around the edges, but we'll give those ones to Dean, huh?"

Sam does not look in Dean's direction, instead his gaze drifts back to the window. Dean doesn't realise one of the nurses has come over until she speaks.

"He likes the colours outside," she says. "We sat him over here so he could see. I think it's quite soothing for him."

That makes Dean want to yell or scream or fucking kick something over. Sam isn't a toddler... he went to Stanford, for god's sake. He manages to clamp down on his temper and he turns to the nurse and says, "I'm going to take him outside."

The nurse blinks at him. "He's not in any condition to go for a walk..."

"Get him a wheelchair then," Dean says. "You've gotta have some around here, right? Since you're a hospital."

It doesn't take much to send the nurse away for one. Not long after, Dean is pushing Sam out into the garden, only just restraining himself from steering Sam towards the exit, driving him to Jody's, settling him into the Impala, and speeding away from everything here. The place is sort of depressing, Dean isn't entirely sure how someone is supposed to recover in a place that's so sterile and empty. But that's rich coming from the guy who's healed from deep, seeping wounds on musty motel sheets.

Being out in the sun seems to make Sam happier. He's actually turning his head to look at things and a few times Dean stops pushing and lets Sam inspect _another_ plant in painful detail. Jody wanders beside them, her hand never leaving Sam's shoulder. Something rears its ugly head in Dean, something that says _that should be me_.

He grips the wheelchair's handlebars a little tighter and keeps pushing. There are a few adjustment issues after a year of being in Purgatory. It's hard to go from killing, killing, and more killing, to eating roast chicken with Jody on Sundays. He itches for a hunt, he longs even more for his brother. His brother, who is the only person who might know what happened to Kevin Tran. And Dean could look for the kid himself, he probably should, but he can't leave Sam, even if sometimes he wants to, just for a little while.

And there's Benny, who Dean often thinks of. Is he safe? Is he happy? Is he still on the wagon?

And Cas. Cas, who Dean will never see again...

As much as Dean has lost, Sam is still here. Dean just needs to stick it out until he comes back to himself. Sam will come back, he has to.

He's lost in thought, when his phone begins to ring. Jody stares at him expectantly.

"Take it," she says. "It might be something important."

Dean nods and moves a few steps away. Benny's name flashes on the screen and Dean immediately answers.

"Benny?"

_"Hey, Dean. You, um – you got a minute? Afraid I messed up, buddy."_

Dean sighs deeply. "What did you do?"

_"No, man. Not like that. I had a run in with a few of my kind... I took 'em out, but I'm hurt pretty bad. There were four of them and they got a few good hits in."_

"I'm sorry, you took on _how many_? Are you crazy?"

_"Hey. See, the thing is, my legs – they ain't working so good. There's, uh... a fuel barge not too far from here. I'm pretty sure I can make it at a slow crawl. I was kind of hoping maybe I could ask you for one more favour?"_

Dean turns to see Jody crouched down, talking one-sided to Sam. She's been doing this a long time, seems to know how to navigate this situation with her eyes closed. Dean sighs and tightens his fingers around his cell. It looks like Baby will be back on the road sooner than he thought.


End file.
